


Light Up the Dark

by RansomNotes



Series: Happy Steve Bingo [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Background Howling Commandos - Freeform, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, F/M, Happy Steve Bingo, Prompt: Power Cuts and Blackouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21666178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RansomNotes/pseuds/RansomNotes
Summary: Happy Steve Bingo 2019The Howling Commandos are back in London after a mission, and Steve and Peggy still have things left unsaid after she walked in on that ambush kiss. A long walk through the dark of blacked-out London might be just the ticket...
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Series: Happy Steve Bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561972
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53
Collections: Happy Steve Bingo 2019





	Light Up the Dark

The pub was warm and alive, though the streets outside were grim and dark. The Howling Commandos were alive, after another risky mission, and in the necessary shortsightedness of the soldier at war, nothing else need matter. Not yet, at least.

Tomorrow would be another mission. Tomorrow would be another chance to stare death in the eye and try not to blink. But for here and now, the here and now was all that could command them.

Steve lingered at the end of the bar, watching over his men amid the boisterous crowd. Bucky had called him a “musclebound mother figure” on previous nights like this, for all his fussing, and as if thinking of him summoned him, Bucky looked up from the edge of the group’s table. Steve had waved away his inquiring gaze, and Bucky had nodded back and returned to his drink. Steve could never manage to shrug away his responsibilities the way everyone else did, in the nights after a successful mission. Well, nearly everyone else. Bucky kept up his steady vigilance even during these R&R breaks back to London, like tonight, and as much as that reassured Steve’s anxiety over the safety of the group, it nudged his worry for Bucky himself. Bucky wasn’t quite back to his old self yet. It hardly felt his place to mention it, though, with his own complete reincarnation standing, flexing, like a permanent accusation of hypocrisy between them, since Steve was in some ways nothing like the man Bucky had left behind. And if Bucky hadn’t had to leave Steve behind, Steve could’ve, should’ve, been there when he’d needed him. Before the HYDRA base. Before Azzano. 

They were still the same in essentials. They always would be, Steve knew. Steve trusted. The years growing up hadn’t separated them, and Steve’s endless bedrest illnesses hadn’t, and the miles of the battlefield hadn’t either, somehow. They were brothers to the bone, and he needed to trust to that. Bucky always found him when he’d needed him, and he’d showed up for Bucky just barely in time, too, and if he could rely on anything else in this crazy world, surely it was in Bucky, as his family and his friend. 

He looked up to see Bucky had finally lost patience with his brooding, and walked over to lean back on his elbows on the bar next to him. 

“You’re thinking too loud, pal. Drowning out all the music.”

Steve grinned back, and looked away again at the crowd. “With all this ruckus, my thoughts must be louder than  Mrs. Zarecki  down the hall for anyone to even begin to hear me.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got good hearing. Better’n yours, so you can trust me on this.”

They were silent a moment, Steve wary of admitting to his worry about Bucky too bluntly, and their new dynamic still settling between them. 

Bucky finally cleared his throat. “And speaking of hearing, I’ve been hearing some juicy scuttlebutt about you.”

Steve fully turned to him and sputtered out some attempt at a question.

“Well. They say there’s trouble in paradise with you and Lady Danger.”

Steve flushed, hopefully unnoticed in the warm atmosphere, and tried to scoff. “She has a name, y’know. And she might’ve been a bit...miffed with me, professionally, but we’re sorting it out.”

He hated talking girls with Bucky, not because he was ever interested in Bucky, despite the whispers about their friendship sometimes, growing up. But no, it was just that Bucky had always been all ease and smiles, with a different dame on his arm every week, and a different smear of lipstick on his face or collar nearly every weekend for their entire dating lives. But Steve was always the awkward third wheel, trying not to resent Bucky’s matchmaking efforts, but chafing at the reactions to his unimpressive frame and perpetual illness. And even the girls he’d liked on his own, he couldn’t quite fathom how anyone ever bridged the gap from distant appreciation to getting up close and personal on a dance floor, let alone in a dark corner. Since no one had ever inspired the same madness in him that seemed to affect everyone else, Steve had tried to ignore that whole side of life. He hadn’t been likely to live long enough to get married, even if any dame had ever wanted him, and he could never be as casual otherwise, like Bucky or his revolving door of laughing and charmed ladies, to steal a moment with someone he wouldn’t be willing, or even able, to pledge forever to, if it came to that. 

And he hated talking about Agent Carter in particular with Bucky because he knew Bucky saw straight through him, to some of his martyr nihilism, to not want to risk a further connection when no one was promised tomorrow. From the first, when he’d been trying to enlist, Steve had craved a death in battle, to be honest, a  _ meaningful _ death rather than just a slow succumbing to his endless weaknesses, and even though he was hale and hearty now, he hadn’t fully shaken off that attitude, of chasing risk for its own sake. And Agent Carter--she was a forever type gal if he’d ever met one. A dame worth living for as much as she was worth dying for.

Not to mention how much he wanted her on a completely basic level. A primitive level, an animalistic level, he would’ve said, if he’d ever put any of this into words, and that level of compulsion was as foreign to him as a full lungful of air still was. She’d been there before the procedure, and she was there through his equally important transition into his full claiming of his abilities, his rescue of Bucky and the founding of the Commandos. She’d become as important to him as Bucky was, and in the same instantaneous but constant way, like Bucky and he had locked arms in the schoolyard and been brothers ever since. But he had anything but brotherly thoughts about Agent Carter, and he didn’t want to be just another shallow dog yapping at her beauty, when what he felt for her was so much deeper than that. 

Bucky had silently considered him and slowly leaned over, shoulder to shoulder. “It didn’t sound like a professional squabble, to hear the gossips. And you know you are allowed a personal life, Stevie, even with this larger than life job they’ve given you.”

He nodded, miserably. “Sure, I know that.”

“Stevie. C’mon, tell me: you’re looking all pinched now cause I’m bothering ya about this, or cause you two really are in a tiff?”

Steve looked across the bar to see her perched on her stool quietly watchful except when matching wits with the men around her. He didn’t avoid her, even now as they were feeling their way back to equilibrium after the whole fondue misunderstanding and the accidental kiss she’d witnessed, but he was constantly aware of her.  Aware of her, and his distance from her, like the awareness of a bruise, with the memory of the pain and the anticipation of more to come from contact.

“Why not both, Buck?”

“Listen, Steve. I always dragged ya along on all those outings back home cause  _ I _ wanted to see you that often anyway, but it never bothered me that you hated all the dates, only cause the lack never seemed to bother you. But this seems different. And I get it, I really do, cause I can see she’s different too. So. I don’t want you to miss this. Don’t miss her.”

Steve had hunched over, leaning down on the bar, practically crumpling as Bucky had talked. 

“I remember you pulling your punches more back home, jerk.”

Bucky smirked at him. “Sure, maybe sometimes I had to back then, punk, but don’t tell me Captain America can’t handle a hard hit now. Or a pretty dame, for that matter.”

“You know, Steve,” he continued, voice a little lower, “there was some other gossip I picked up. Word round the campfire is Carter isn’t staying on base tonight. Checking up on a friend’s flat for the rest of the break, won’t be back until we’re ready to ship back out. If you wanted a chance to talk to her, with time enough for even you to finally spit out some words, you could walk her home safe. It’s awful dark out there for anyone to walk alone, you know, even a hellion like her.”

Steve furrowed his brow in consideration. It was true he rarely had isolated time with her, and the walk truly might help him find the words to apologize to her. And even some of the men hesitated before risking a walk back to base in the blackout all by themselves, if it were late enough, what with the increased crime and risk of accidents in the pitch-black, so she surely wouldn’t be affronted at the offer, chivalrous as it was.

Bucky tilted his head closer and muttered, “Might even give you enough time to work up the nerve to go for a goodnight kiss. Unless you’re too chicken to even look her in the face, huh?”

Steve was still shaking his head ruefully when Agent Carter got up and started gathering her things. He could feel Bucky’s gaze burning a hole in the side of his head as he studiously avoided looking at him, and he finally rolled his shoulders and stood. Whatever else Bucky wanted to say about him, and however else he felt about girls and a personal life, he didn’t want to be considered a coward. Obstinate, foolhardy, or even  cold were all attributes he’d worn and would wear with minimal fuss, but cowardice was never an  epithet he could stand.

Bucky winked at him, as much as Steve was still attempting to ignore him. Steve got Agent Carter’s coat from the rack and stiffly held it out for her as she swayed through the crowd towards him. God, she was lovely. She was every bit as elegant and commanding in civvies as in uniform, but her dark blue dress draped perfectly over her curves, and it wasn’t entirely artist’s appreciation that made him linger on the sight longer than good manners would have allowed, despite the plausible excuse of helping her into her coat.

As always, he felt wrong-footed and awkward around her, but lately she was icy to him rather than charmingly conspiratorial as she’d always been from their earliest acquaintance. Annoyed as she likely still was at him, for his blundering and apparent straying, she merely gave him a look of one perfectly arched eyebrow as she headed for the door. He followed her cue to escort her out, grateful she seemed to just assume his intentions and he hadn’t had to fumble out some  excuse /request/inquiry. They passed through the black curtains hanging in front of the papered-over doors, placed to ensure light wouldn’t escape from the cozy interior, and stepped out into the perfect darkness of a blacked out London. 

She walked as steadily and confidently as ever, without pausing to see if he was following, down the empty roadway. He followed, just a step behind, abstractedly worrying about how he’d remember the directions back when his mind was such a distracted whirl of emotions at the moment.

A block or two away from the pub, she turned abruptly, and he stuttered to a stop, looking down at her lovely upturned face, full of vexation and that indomitable spark he loved about her.

“Well, Captain?”

When he didn’t answer right away, she sighed theatrically. “I assume you only escorted me out to keep that lecherous young local from offering, but now that he’s gone, we can drop the charade. I am perfectly able to find my own way home, as always, dark night or no.”

Steve felt his fists clenching; he hadn’t even noticed anything untoward about the young men she’d been chatting with, he’d been  so distracted talking to Bucky.

“No.” He cleared his throat and tried to  find the words . “No, I hadn’t realized-- no, I was offering to escort you home myself. It’s been a long mission, we’re all exhausted, and it’s a bit too dark out here for anyone to go alone, if they don’t need to. I’ll walk you home, for my own peace of mind if not for yours.”

She scoffed but tilted her head consideringly. “Very well, Captain. If you insist.” 

He was ready to keep walking when she suddenly placed her hand on her hip. “And is that really all you have to say to me?”

He swallowed, panicking anew at the social pressure of the moment. He always had a speech ready at the drop of a hat, over questions of courage, or moral backbone, or social justice, but here, with a pretty girl, talking about his own feelings, he felt utterly adrift. Finally he closed his eyes and sighed, “I’m sorry. For not trusting you, and for giving you any reason to mistrust me.”

She hadn’t interrupted, or moved away, and he opened his eyes and tried again. “I know we’re not-- there’s nothing formally between us, and I’ve no right to be jealous over you anyway, but you have to know, there’s nothing between me and that young woman. She surprised me, and I wasn’t prepared for it, and I’m sorry you had to see it, but I am glad you interrupted when you did. I’m not--” He huffed, and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t a situation I’d ever anticipated, and it’s not the kind of...threat I’m used to handling.” He’d trailed off, hoping she’d hear what he meant despite his fumbling.

Steve had impressive enough night vision to see the details of her face, though he knew it was too dark for her to see much of his face, hidden in shadow as it was, looking down at her. She’d shifted and slowly lifted her free hand from her hip to rest lightly on his chest. “It’s a good start, at least,” she said, and then she started walking away, calling back over her shoulder, “and very well, yes, see me home safe, then, soldier.”

The walk was chilly and at times slow, in the deep dark and with some rubble in their path from prior bombings. He’d wordlessly guided her past the occasional puddle, and timidly held her arm whenever they picked their way through a damaged area, but it wasn’t the worst walk of his life. He was keenly aware of her warmth near him, and even in the dark he caught the shaded glimpses she sometimes tossed his way, which were brief but seemed more curious than furious, and all told this was the best interaction they’d had in weeks, aside from their professional successes, which had thankfully been unaffected by their frosty recent behavior.

They finally reached the building, and she paused outside for a moment, watching him watching her. 

“Steve, you said there was nothing formally between us. That’s because of how you feel, or how you think I feel?”

He shook his head before she’d even finished. “Peggy, I-- there’s only you.”

She slipped her hand out of her glove and gently patted his cheek. “Well, then, since it seems we both feel the same way, perhaps you’d be amenable to something a bit more formal between us than being mere colleagues?” She had a facetious quirk to her voice, wry and teasing as she often was, but he saw the intensity in her gaze, in the limited light of the sidewalk.

He held her hand against his face, and turned just enough to kiss her palm. He started to back away, assuming she was just about to head up to the upstairs flat, when she twisted her hand to grab his, and towed him into the pitch black of the alleyway alongside them.

He stammered out some strangled question about what she was doing, and she settled his hands on her hips as she said, “Really, Steve, you said wanted to see me home safe, and what kind of officer wouldn’t carefully check their charge over for injuries?”

She’d leaned back against the cold brick wall, and as if magnetized he tilted forward with her as she moved. Even his augmented night vision could capture very little of the scene, dark and moonless as the cloudy night was, tucked away as they were, but he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to see anything anyway, wrapped up as he was in this moment with her. She’d slid her hands up to his neck, to pull him down to kiss her, and he hesitated the barest moment before she’d tipped up on her high heels to brush a soft kiss against his lips. Her face was chilled from the walk, but her breath was warm against his face as he froze against her. It was everything he’d ever wanted and never fully considered from her, but he was struck dumb from the weight of the moment. She waited several breaths before angling his head to whisper in his ear, and the chills he got from her breath ghosting along his neck nearly  distracted him from her soft voice. “Steve, is this okay? I didn’t mean to presume, if that’s what--” 

His mind and courage finally caught up to the moment, caught up to the fever in his blood as he pressed her up against the wall and kissed away the rest of her sentence. He wouldn’t miss another second of this, not from fear or hesitation; Bucky was right, and he didn’t want to miss  _ her. _

She’d sighed and melted so prettily in his arms, and he kissed along her neck as he marvelled at getting to experience her like this. She was so aloof and independent in their work, tough as nails, but here she was soft and warm in his hands, arching against him and clinging tightly. She’d briefly paused a heated kiss to pull his hands inside her coat, and he thought this might’ve been sensory overload for him even before he was  augmented and remade, but it was nearly literally overwhelming now, her soft breath panting in time with him, gusting white in the cold night air, and her soft curves a perfect fit in his hands, his own pulse thundering in his ears, and their shared warmth such a contrast to the brief whips of chilled wind. He only barely noticed another sound, and regretfully pulled back a bit before whispering in her ear, “I hear footsteps coming this way.” His voice was rueful, as he leaned back, expecting her to pull away, to go inside finally, to avoid being seen. 

Instead she reeled him back in, and he could hear the smirk in her voice as she said, “Surely you can hide me in the dark, Captain, even without your shield?” She braced on his shoulders to pull her legs up around his waist, hidden away under his great coat, as he held her and pressed her up against the wall, placing his face between hers and the approaching group as she leaned her head against his neck and popped his collar to disappear even more.

The group passed quickly enough, never noticing them huddled in the dark, and Steve held his forehead firmly against the brick, using the focused cold to try to ground himself. Now that they’d had a moment to think, and the momentum of their passion had paused, even briefly, he could feel himself disappearing into his own head again, and he could groan from the frustration of feeling captive to his own anxiety always, endlessly. Peggy had quietly slid down his frame to stand against him again, and he thought she had probably felt the building anxious tension in his frame. 

She kissed his cheek so softly and said, “Walk me to my door then, Steve.” He’d frowned and looked to her eyes, and whether or not she saw his face, she smiled. “It’s dreadfully dark in the hallway to my flat, too, so don’t consider your duty to my safety completed yet.” She shifted away from him towards the street. “And if you’re very lucky, you might even get a good night kiss,” she tossed over her shoulder. 

He silently stewed as she fumbled to open the outermost door, in the dark, having to use feel rather than sight, and then as they made their way through the common areas to the door to her flat. This night was more than he’d ever expected, more than he’d ever dreamed, but he worried his sudden withdrawal, subtle as it had been, had been off-putting to her. She’d been so warm and alive in his arms, eager to wrap him around herself and take everything he’d give her, that he worried he’d disappointed her.

At her door, she leaned up to give him the briefest kiss, and paused in her doorway just a moment, and he felt the tension ease out of him at her soft smile. “Steve. I was patient waiting for the right partner. I can be patient waiting for the right time, too."

* * *

  
Steve made it fully half of the way back to base before he slumped against a wall and sighed. He could already hear Bucky’s teasing in his head, sharp and fond, but with that  unvoiced undertone of pity, if he came back at all tonight, but especially if he came back in any way hangdog or glum. He’d never fully explained his hesitations about women to Bucky if just because his own caution might seem an indictment of the way Bucky lived his life, and by extension, the way Bucky’s women, plural, had all chosen to live their lives.

And it wasn’t that. Not exactly. He didn’t begrudge them the happiness they managed to find.

But he’d known he couldn’t offer or accept anything casual or temporary, and there was little enough else for him, growing up, without a real chance at a future. He was never a safe long term bet, not back when he’d been sick more often than not, and one foot already in the grave, and even now, fit as he was, deep in his bones he felt there were too many bullets out there with his name on them to deflect all of them with his shield.

One man can only hope for lightning to strike so many times before the clock ticking gets a bit louder in one’s head.

Maybe Bucky was right. With as long as he’d been waiting around for Death to come to him, maybe it was finally time he caught up to Life, when he had a chance.

He made good time through the dark and foggy streets, avoiding the few people as well as any debris, and stopped, suddenly, at her door. It had been maybe half an hour, if that, all told. He lifted his hand to knock when the door suddenly swung open, and Peggy leaned on the doorjamb, with her inviting smirk and arched eyebrow daring him on.

“Hullo, Captain.” She snagged his jacket lapels in one hand and reeled him inside, and the soft glow of her building made everything seem even more inviting and warm compared to the pitch black in the city streets. She pulled him into a drowning kiss, as they stumbled together to her room, and her mouth was hot and sweet under his. Blinking up at him, her eyes seemed aglow, mischievous but welcoming, and she whispered against his lips, “It’s about time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta-ed atm, so please tell me if you see mistakes.   
> I sent it too close to the deadline, and my poor beta is currently smothered under real life stress ('tis the season, right?); let's send a St. Bernard with a flask of fancy tea to the rescue.
> 
> Important background information: Natalie Dormer is Pvt. Lorraine, she of the ambush kiss in The First Avenger movie, and while we love her in GoT and Elementary, my SO and I refer to her in Captain America exclusively as "sneaky-chipmunk-face" because of her hot Lola Bunny face and because of the tricky stolen kiss drama. PSA ended, go about your day!


End file.
